


I Don't Hate

by scavengertrash



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Fingering, Dominant Rey, F/M, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Light Bondage, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:33:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22249468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scavengertrash/pseuds/scavengertrash
Summary: Canon divergent from TLJ, Rey decides to rule with Kylo Ren and has some opinions about how a galaxy should be run. Kylo Ren is convinced that her issues with the First Order reflect a bitterness that she had agreed to join him at all, and Rey helps him through that insecurity.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 5
Kudos: 73





	I Don't Hate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cataclysma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cataclysma/gifts).



> Specific content warnings in the end notes. This was written as a birthday gift for @cataclysma, so I hope they enjoy this brief visit from Dom Rey and Switch Kylo Ren.

"If we're doing this, we're doing it my way," Rey had said as she stood in the hail of sparks, looking like an angel. Kylo thought he'd understood Hell, had been through it in every way a person could be since that night Luke tried to kill him, but he'd been wrong. Hell was fearing that she would turn him away. And when she agreed to stay with him, when she took his hand, he was born again. 

Provided Rey got her way, the First Order would be too. 

She'd made changes immediately. With her hair loose around her shoulders and her scrapes from the fight still healing, she'd arrived at the meeting of the First Order's High Command and asked to see the budgets. 

"I don't know how much a credit is worth," she admitted to Kylo, lying beside him that night. "But I know that if we have money for weapons, money enough to destroy planets, then we have enough to feed them instead." 

"You hate me for keeping you here." 

"What?" She propped herself on her elbows, surveying him. He was still growing used to this picture: Rey, in her tunic shirt and underwear, hair undone and spilling around her shoulders while she stretched out in his bed, their bed, in their quarters. "I don't hate you, Ben."

The connection they shared, stronger now than it had been, suggested that she was telling the truth -- that she could never hate him, not really -- but Kylo Ren could not help thinking that it only meant she lied to herself as efficiently as she lied to him. She had to resent him. He'd locked her in the same prison that had held him for ages, forced her to face down these decisions with all that compassion and know that there was only so much to be done. 

"Do you remember the meeting with Hapes?" 

"How could I forget?"

"They said that I was marrying a monster." He said nothing because he could not disagree with that assessment. When Rey surged onward, he expected she would contradict the notion, but instead she said, "I did." 

It sounded an awful lot like she hated him. 

"But the rest of the galaxy doesn't see what I see: that there's more than that." She slid onto him. Rey was skilled in many things, but the sexual arts were not among them. The movement was inelegant, a blunt declaration. Kylo laid back, bewildered all the same. He always was when she reached for him. He could still not believe that she wanted him at all. "I get all the sides of you." 

As she said this, she pressed a kiss to one of his cheeks, then the other. 

"What else do you see?" 

It had been so long since he'd stopped looking. Enough people had seen him as nothing but a monster that eventually he stopped challenging their interpretation, even embraced it. Rey never would. When she'd first agreed, he believed he'd tamed her, but the truth was ... 

"The side that helped me end the embargo on Kijimi."

"It was inefficient." 

"You compromised on involuntary conscription." For that, High Command had called him weak, accused him of being led around by his cock, by a nothing girl without so much as a last name. General Pryde was dead now, an example to all of them. That was the first night they'd fucked. He should have guessed. "I know you don't like seeing these things either. I know that you believe we can do better." 

"Demilitarization isn't an option. I know how many systems you think we could feed, but the only reason we have these resources is the control that we can --" 

"I'm not trying to get anything out of you, Ben." She frowned, her palms splaying on his bare chest. When had he grown used to having her hands there? When had he grown used to anyone touching him? And when was anyone _not_ trying to get something out of him? "You asked if I hated you. I'm showing you why you couldn't be more wrong." 

She slid her hand beneath his lounge pants then, closing her fist around his cock. He hadn't expected this until she mounted him, and he was still mostly soft, but his heart skipped like a ship at lightspeed, a painful stutter as he arched up into her touch. 

" _Rey_." 

The low growl of his voice delighted her. The corners of her mouth turned up, and she leaned in closer, loomed over him. She was never as frightening as anyone else whose shadow he had stood in had been. When he looked up at her, it was like watching starfall from the crystal cliffs, like seeing the sun for the first time, like breathing underwater. She was a miracle. _His miracle,_ he dared to think when he was at his bravest. 

"I don't hate the way you sound like this," Rey told him, though he could hardly make sense of the words because she had begun a punishingly tight rhythm around his cock without lubricant. The chafing pain was more familiar to his body than the pleasure. It responded eagerly, chasing the latter out because the former had made it palatable. She knew him, understood him in a way that frightened them both. "I don't hate the things you let me do to you. I don't hate your cock, or the way it feels inside of me." 

Kylo heard what she didn't say. This was her way. She demanded, and he provided, and if he was shy or reluctant, she would make him ask for it. It was easier when he just embraced it, but a part of him enjoyed the tug, the things she could pry out of him when she had to pry. 

So he reached up, wrapped her into his arms, and rolled to pin her, hunger opening like a deep pit in his stomach. She released him, held to his shoulders instead for balance. When her back hit the mattress, his hand glided down the smooth plane of her thigh, pulling the leg up around his hip as he rutted against her core. 

"I don't hate the way you fight it," she admitted, a gasp in her voice. "Even though you know I'll win." 

She grabbed his jaw, forced him to stop avoiding her eyes. 

"I see you, Ben." 

"Don't call me that," he growled, reaching up to grab her wrist and push it aside, pin it to the bed so he could dive in and kiss at her neck. Rey released a heady cry, like a symphony, and he drank it in. His rocking at her center soaked through her panties. The damp warmth cupped his bare cock, protruding awkwardly out the top of half-removed lounge pants. 

"I don't even hate Kylo," she whispered in his ear, her fingertips digging into the grooves of his ribs. "That mask you wear to hide from the rest of the world. Because I don't _hate_ that way. I don't hate at all. You couldn't make me." 

While he wasn't paying attention, she'd pulled aside her underwear. The next rock of his hips drives him straight into the scorching heat of her cunt, the incomparable texture of her muscular walls bearing down around him. He was ready to burst in an instant, but he croaked out a sound and stilled, hilted in her. It had been so easy. He could hardly believe it. She was so tight, and it had always been difficult, but she -- She was dripping wet. 

Rey's arms closed around his shoulders, holding him close.

"But I _love_ Ben." 

She put it this way because of him, because he was the one who hid behind a name that was not his, who tried to erase all evidence of Ben Solo from memory, knowing full and well that he was Ben and he was Kylo Ren and he could have her love and none of her loathing if he'd only embrace them both, if he'd only stop running from the person he used to be. A guttural noise slipped out of him as she flipped them, a wrestling roll that put her on top of him. 

Rocking her hips, hair all a mess, face flushed with arousal, she looked like a goddess of spring. Emerging anew, reborn, something better than she'd been before. He should have known he could not alter her in that way, should never have doubted that his power was inadequate to ruin her as he'd feared he would. Every muscle in his body wound tight, ready to chase his release until --

"Not yet," She said. "You're not ready yet." 

The Force seemed to contract, squeezing him, pinning him down while she rode him. Rey threw her head back, arched and writhed while her fingers fumbled between them, rubbing an erratic rhythm that he could not keep up. His body felt ready to burst, held precariously at the edge of something and powerless to reach out and grab it. 

That scared him: the powerlessness. He croaked out a needy, helpless noise, and it was that sound which had Rey tightening around him. The Force bond shared the flood of sensation, the endorphin hit, while her cunt convulsed, milked nothing out of his cock because he was helpless to her. 

"Rey, Rey, Rey," he chanted, straining to buck up into her. She ignored him, only rode him through it. When she stilled, his plea grew longer. An animal whine. He reached for her, gripped her hips so he could thrust up, finally free, but -- 

But she drew away. 

"Let me see how badly you need it." Orgasm left her voice soft, full. She cupped his face in her hands. "Be with me." 

He snarled and snapped, and that invisible Force returned. He was too distracted. Her control was better. He envied her that, and it further clouded his vision, bringing all the worst parts of himself to the surface. But Rey grabbed a mostly empty plastic tube from the headboard and scaled down his body casually. A hissing sound burst between his gritted teeth as her tongue dragged along a generous trail of slick she'd left behind, cleaning herself off of him as if it had never happened, as if he were a toy to put away. 

"Don't," he croaked. "Please, don't. I need it--" 

"Need what?" She was so patient. How could she be so patient? It killed him to ask, knowing she might deny him, knowing he didn't deserve it, but she was going to make him beg anyway. The denial made his face hot. 

"To come." 

"Would someone who hated you let you come?" 

" _Rey._ " 

"Honest question." 

"No," his breathing turned ragged. "Don't--" 

"You're almost there. Bend your knees." 

It was invasive. It was unimaginable. The sort of thing that High Command would make him a laughing stock for because what kind of _man_ \-- But he bent his knees, surrendering to what she had taught him that he could want, that he could need. Rey's wet fingers probed at the tight circle of muscle, slow and soft, and she stopped kissing his cock, stopped touching it at all. 

He groaned, eyes squeezed shut, thrashing blindly and uselessly at the way the Force held him down because he _needed_ that contact like he needed to breathe, like he needed her. But when her fingers -- first one, wriggled expertly inside, slim and long and perfect, and then another -- stretched him, his cock throbbed, a heady pulse. 

Maybe he didn't need it. Maybe this would be enough. 

"That's it," She told him. "Trust me. I just want you to trust me." She kissed his abdomen, the curve of his hip, the inside of his thigh, his balls, but never his cock as long as she thrust her fingers inside of him, curling them, stroking him from inside. His body squeezed, holding her in or pushing her out. "Do you think I hate you, Ben?" 

"No." It spilled out of him, and suddenly he was gasping for air, blinking back a wetness in his eyelashes. "No, no. I don't know why. I don't deserve it. But, Rey, please." 

From there it was incoherent babble. She didn't soothe him. She was too efficient, too straightforward for such coaxing, and she had no guile for it. Instead, she licked one long stripe up the length of his cock, and took as much of it as she could inside of her mouth. Not all of it. She hadn't managed that, for all her best efforts, but he saw stars when he tried to look at her, spots of color in his vision as her free hand pushed his thigh back, tilting his hips up, and -- 

He collapsed on himself with the same chaotic energy of a red dwarf. Frenetic and unpredictable, he thrashed, bucked, and she suckled at him like she had never left Jakku, like it was the only thing she'd ever had to drink, well beyond when he was too sensitive to withstand it. Rey drew back only when he was whimpering, shuddering, twitching. And even then, she pumped her fingers in and out a few more times for good measure, a final nudge, a final goodbye, like she would be sorry not to be inside of him anymore. 

She kissed him on the mouth, and he tasted salt.

"I don't hate you," she reaffirmed. "I love you, Ben." 

**Author's Note:**

> This may verge on dub-con for some people because Rey is holding Kylo Ren down at various parts.


End file.
